


Lost Dog

by I_mNotYourEnemy



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_mNotYourEnemy/pseuds/I_mNotYourEnemy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out on patrol, Tim had been expecting to run into muggers and petty thieves, not Superdog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Dog

Man could not fly, nor would man ever fly without assistance from meta-genes or aircrafts, but Tim liked to forget this fact as he patrolled his streets. Yes, they were his streets now. He may not be the Batman—hell, he wasn’t even Robin any more—but these streets were his responsibility as much as they were theirs. He’d lived in Gotham all his life and could navigate his way around the rooftops in his sleep. He’d memorised his various patrol routes, both for solo and group patrol, so all he really had to do was concentrate on the constant buzz of life below him for any signs of disturbance. Hardly a night passed by without some form of incident. Sometimes he was lucky and could track his way to the base of a crime operation, but most days were slow; only muggers and thieves lingered to keep him occupied.

It had been too long since he’d felt Gotham’s bitter winds against him, accompanying him as he flew above the frost-laced lands. His time recently had been spent alternating between being cooped up in front of his computer and going out as Tim Wayne: Bruce Wayne’s prodigy son, although he’d spent significantly more time on the former. He had to plan, he always did. He had to know his moves exactly and precisely; he had to be ahead of the opposition, so much so that he could predict their steps before they’d even begun to think about executing them. He was the thinker, he always had been, and this tendency to overthink every situation he threw himself into was what lead his body to negligence and forgetfulness. He’d long ago sussed out how far he could push himself without overstepping his limits and how much he could consume to sustain himself. He had to work; he had no time to be frivolous. He only needed the bare minimum and then he could get back to what really mattered.

Of course, his brother didn’t exactly agree with that.

Dick cared too much for too many. Tim had never voiced his thoughts, but he assumed this was because Dick had failed to save his parents so he tried to save everyone else to make up for it. While it was admirable, it was also incredibly stupid. He couldn’t save everyone, no matter how hard he tried. Some people were lost causes and far beyond Dick’s helpful reach. Tim was decidedly not one of these lost causes, but regardless of how much he told Dick that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, the elder always managed to drag him away from his work for a refreshing break. Although, the vigilante version of ‘refreshing’ was much different to the civilian term.

His evening had been somewhat compromised once Dick had attempted to subtly tell him that Damian was to join them on the patrol, but Tim had already figured that much out. It wasn’t so much that Damian was intruding on Dick and Tim’s patrol, but Tim was joining Dick and Damian. It was a Friday evening so their efforts needed not to be divided. Attention was always needed as Gotham neared the weekend. People who had been kept busy with work were no longer bound and were free, to some extent, to do as they pleased. It was up to Batman, Robin, and, for tonight, Red Robin to stop them. Refreshing, indeed.

While Dick’s protectiveness and concern for his wellbeing could breach on annoying at times, Tim appreciated it. He was in a better place now and it was comforting to know that he could still rely on the people he called his family. Previously, he’d been teetering on the edge, unsure of whether he would topple over or not. People had died—people close to him. It had been difficult and although he now understood Dick’s decision regarding Robin, it had felt like a huge betrayal back then. In fact, it still kind of did, but he tried not to ponder on that for too long. It was best to occupy himself with other things lest his mind allow itself to be tainted by dark thoughts again.

His mind wandered as they swung from building to building, gliding over rooftops in a dramatic show of flared capes. He may not be as trained as Damian, nor did flying come as naturally to him as it did to Dick, but he could relax. Seeing Gotham from a distance allowed him to forget the gritty details and all the facts. He could appreciate a beautiful but tainted city. To the oblivious, he supposed Gotham looked like a beacon of hope and prosperity, and in some aspects it was. It was dragged down by the increasing crime rate and worsening reputation. It was a chain of effects; they put on the costumes to defeat the bad guys, the bad guys suit up too, the heroes get more weapons, the villains get bigger weapons, and so on. There was no foolproof way of saving their city from the clutches of criminals, but it helped to think that they were making a difference. Who knows what could happen if they all decided to hang up their capes?

At some time around one in the morning, Tim, in his half-dazed state of mind, managed to completely oversee an oncoming figure. It was the first time he’d donned his cape in a while so he was still readjusting to the responsibilities that came with it, which meant he wasn’t completely at his top game. He eventually noticed it, but only when it was too late.

He didn’t see what it was. All he knew was that he was falling. He’d been preparing to mirror Batman’s actions and follow him towards the east side of the city, but he’d hit an unexpected obstacle—something that hadn’t been in his calculations. He hadn’t had much warning. He had no time to adjust his course or slow down. He’d made an error and now he was going to pay for it.

Falling was not unfamiliar to him but he’d always had someone there to catch him before. His cape billowed and his body twisted, searching for some way to slow down or stop entirely. He wasn’t scared of falling; it was the landing part he was afraid of.

Something tugged on the edge of his cape and an audible rip of fabric was heard. Tim found himself hovering in mid-air, hoisted up by some unknown being. After a moment or two, he was dropped less-than-gracefully onto a nearby rooftop, where he sprang to his feet immediately and dusted himself off. He entered a battle stance, his fingers twitching towards his weaponry, only to find that it was completely unnecessary. Settled in the air a few feet away from him, his tail wagging and tongue lolling, was Krypto. A confused sound escaped Tim’s lips and he took a couple of tentative steps forwards. He stretched out a hand and, before he knew it, he’d been bowled over to the ground with the dog happily licking at his face.

“Looks like you made a new friend,” came a voice, shortly followed by a dulled thud. Batman strode out but held no air of intimidation as the last one had. Instead, he was sporting a grin as he took in Tim’s situation. “Do dogs usually wear capes?”

“We’re wasting time,” Robin scowled, emerging from Batman’s shadow. “Let’s leave him with the mutt and we can get back to work.”

“Krypto! _Krypto_! Down, boy!” None of Red Robin’s shouts seemed to have much effect. He scrunched his nose as his cheeks were wetted by what he could only assume was Superdog saliva. He spared a quick glance around the complex and then pushed his cowl down and held up his hands. “Calm down, it’s just me.” This seemed to work marginally better than before, as he could now struggle his way to a stand. Superdog circled around him, panting.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s Superman’s dog, right?” Dick asked, his head tilted slightly to the left. “Or Superboy’s. One of those two.”

Tim nodded. It had been an unreasonably long time since he’d last seen Kon and he had no justifiable reasons for that. Travelling to Smallville took a large portion out of his day and it was time he didn’t really have. He _could_ make time, of course, but things kept popping up every time he thought about visiting his friend. He’d sent him a couple of messages to check on how he was doing and how well he had been adjusting since his return, but their conversations never held much flow. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of Superboy on the news and would feel a flash of guilt, but he would somehow convince himself that if Kon really wanted to see him then he could always fly over to Gotham.

“Yeah. I guess he’s around and Superdog flew off ahead of him,” Tim reasoned, a small frown tugging at the edges of his lips. Krypto had calmed down now and was looking up at him expectantly. “Should I take him back to the manor or something?”

“Do whatever. We’re running late,” Damian said, his arms crossed over his chest. He regarded the dog with a disdained look and then turned on his heel. He tugged his hood over his head and did not look back to see if anyone was following.

Dick raised his shoulders in a small shrug. “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for Superboy but you can go wherever you want. There’s only a couple of hours left of patrol anyway.”

Tim smoothed his hair down and then tucked a few strands behind his ear. He pulled his cowl up and inspected his torn cape; he wouldn’t be able to glide very successfully with it. “I’ll go the long way home and hope I run into him. I’ll see you later.” With a short run up and a leap, he was gone.

♦ ♦ ♦

Krypto, it seemed, enjoyed playing fetch. Tim assumed he wasn’t as much fun as Kon, who could rip up a tree and throw it miles away, but the dog’s tail never stilled as he chased the rubber ball around the Batcave. He’d received a confused look from Alfred when he’d returned but he had little in the way of an explanation to offer. In all honesty, Krypto had just followed him home. He’d thought that Kon would’ve shown up by now to reclaim his dog but no such thing had happened. He didn’t mind entertaining the dog until his owner showed up.

“Master Tim, if you insist on throwing that thing around then I would advise you take it outside,” Alfred sighed, narrowly avoiding a collision with the overenthusiastic dog. Tim’s typing paused and he glanced over his shoulder. Krypto was miraculously managing to superspeed his way around the cave without actually breaking anything. He came to a halt by Tim’s chair and pressed his face into Tim’s legs, the ball rolling from Krypto’s mouth to his lap. Tim tapped at the keyboard a few times to ensure that his work was secure before he left. He picked up the ball, grimaced at how it was slightly damp, and whistled for Krypto to follow him.

As he made his way out of one of the mansion’s side doors, he spotted Dick and Damian returning from patrol. Neither looked too beaten up so there wasn’t much need for concern. They’d returned whole, which was always a good thing. Well, it was for Dick; Tim wasn’t so sure about Damian.

“You still have him?” Dick asked in a way that leaned more towards an expected explanation. “Do you have a thing for stray dogs?”

Tim tossed the small ball in his hand a couple of times before throwing it into a nearby cluster of trees. Krypto zoomed off, leaving a light breeze behind him. Tim shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his coat and shook his head, his soft sigh condensing in the air. “I thought he’d go back to Superboy but he followed me home. I’ll call Kon in a bit.”

“Well, get to it sooner rather than later. I feel the need to sleep for half a day and I don’t want to be woken up by barking or anything,” Dick replied. “You should get some sleep too, Timmy. Don’t push yourself too much, ‘kay?”

Tim nodded, although he had no intention of sticking to the unspoken promise. He had much to do and his schedule was slightly behind due to his current distraction.

As Dick pressed a hand to Damian’s back and they turned to walk away, Tim walked towards where Krypto had gone and cleared his throat. He cupped his hands to either side of his mouth and, in a voice that was loud enough to be distinctive but not too loud so that it caused much disruption, shouted, “Kon!”

A small smirk flickered across his lips when he heard Damian muttering and Dick giving a disbelieving laugh. When he’d said he’d call Kon, he meant literally.

He shuffled from foot to foot and watched Krypto entertain himself with the local wildlife during the few minutes it took Kon to arrive. He’d heard no sonic boom so evidently he hadn’t been in too much of a rush. He landed beside Tim, a grin plastered on his lips and his hair incredibly dishevelled.

“You called?”

Tim stared at him. It strange, he thought, how you could mould your own image of someone in your mind that ended up as a distorted version of the original. Had Kon always been that much taller than him? Had his hair grown since their last meeting? Or maybe he’d had it cut—Tim wasn’t sure. It’d been so long since he’d last seen the boy before him that he’d begun to forget the details.

“You know, we need to sort something out if you’re just gonna stare at me every time I say ‘hi’,” Kon continued with a sheepish smile. Tim’s piercing gaze could be unnerving at the best of times.

“What? Oh, right, sorry.” Tim shook his head and returned the smile. “Hi.” He hesitated for a moment and, for once, decided not to think and just act. He moved forwards and slid his arms around Kon’s thick torso. Evidently the other hadn’t quite been expecting this as he went rigid, but relaxed moments after, draping his own arms over Tim’s shoulders.

“So, did you want something or did you just miss me?” Kon asked as Tim pulled back.

 _Both_. “I have something of yours.” With a short, high pitched whistle, he summoned Krypto to them, who hovered beside them with and rather large branch in his mouth. “Did you lose a dog?”

“Krypto!” Kon exclaimed, a grin threatening to split his face. “You dumb dog, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He grabbed the dog and scratched his head affectionately. No matter how much Kon complained about having to look after him, it was obvious that he was fond of Krypto.

“He decided to join me on patrol and follow me home,” Tim said, a faint smile lingering on his lips. It was weird to think that Kon had been lost to him before. He’d changed, yes, but so had Tim. He’d almost been destroyed and crippled by grief. He’d handled it in the only way he knew how; through work and cases.

“I’m kind of glad he did. I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Kon replied in a soft tone, glancing over to Tim. Tim’s head inclined, indicating for him to elaborate. “Ma said you should come over some time. She hasn’t seen you in ages and she—well, _we_ miss you. She can bake your favourite pie,” he added, almost as a persuasive afterthought

Tim’s brows dipped. He’d kept himself in his little world of criminals and acting for the cameras so much that he’d practically forgotten about everything else he could do. Visiting the Kents seemed like such a distant memory when in reality it had only be a few years ago. It had been fun back then. They expected nothing of him; he didn’t have to be the cold and calculating Robin, he didn’t have to be the peculiar but charismatic adopted son of Bruce Wayne. He only had to be Tim. He would turn up to their warm greetings and become part of their family for a short while.

“Are you heading back home now?” he asked.

Kon nodded. “Yeah, in a bit. It’s getting kinda late and I don’t want Ma to wake up and worry about where I’ve gone.” He paused and made a soft ‘oh’ sound, realising Tim’s intent behind the question. “You want to come with me?”

Tim glanced back to the manor, considering his options briefly. Yes, he was behind on his work but he didn’t actually have a deadline. It was a personal case and something he could see to at any time. It would please Dick; he always insisted that Tim needed to spend more time with his friends and socialise with people he liked, not just those who are influential in Gotham. He was pretty certain that Damian wouldn’t care if he was absent for a day or two.

After all, he needed this. He needed the warmth and security which was something that had just faded from Gotham. The place would always be his home and the people here would always be his family, but he needed to clear his mind. He’d finally come up for air and after the first few lungfuls, he found himself unable to go back under.

“Yeah. I—I think I will.”

Kon grinned and hooked an arm around Tim’s waste, pulling him towards him. “Great. Grab some stuff and we can go. You haven’t flown on Kon Airways for ages.”

Tim’s body responded by instinct and he forced his muscles to relax. “I have told you it’s good to have you back, right? Because it really is.”

Kon’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “You have but I don’t mind hearing it again.”


End file.
